


Fighting Darkness

by NoOneButNoOne



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: Experimentation, Family Issues, Family Secrets, Kidnapping, Mutant Powers, Panic Attacks, Slade is his own warning, Team Bonding, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 09:05:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16302203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOneButNoOne/pseuds/NoOneButNoOne
Summary: When Raven is awakened in the middle of the night by a disembodied voice begging for help, the Titans find themselves racing to rescue their friend. Will they be able to save Jericho, or will he be lost to the darkness?





	1. A Voice in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or any of the characters mentioned here. 
> 
> This was my first attempt at fanfiction, written and posted over a year ago in the middle of the night under the influence of the 2014 Deathstroke and rage that the cartoon ended with five minutes of Jericho and so much unexplored. I usually let comments through, I'm only moderating to filter out people trying to give me six pages of the entire history of the DC Universe, as though I don't know... I'm terribly slow to update, but I won't give up on it. Hope you enjoy!

_Help… help me… please…_

Raven sat up in bed with a gasp. The voice that awakened her was so close, so clear, so… familiar. She looked around her room, but there was no one there. Reaching out with her powers, Raven sensed that the rest of her teammates were sleeping. She was the only conscious soul in Titan’s Tower that night.

Trying to process what she had heard and felt, Raven fell back onto her pillow and turned to the side. Whoever the voice belonged to was frightened and in pain. There were also hints of dizziness and confusion, as though the boy were ill. Wait, how did she know the voice belonged to a boy? It had seemed rather androgynous.

Giving up on sleep, Raven pulled on her cloak and flew to the main room to make herself some tea. While the water was heating, the empath checked the Tower’s monitors. The city appeared to be completely quiet. Perhaps she had imagined the voice. Perhaps it was only a dream.

The gray-skinned teenager finished pouring her tea and moved to return to her room when she heard it again.

_Please… no more, I don’t like it… NO PLEASE DON’T SOMEBODY MAKE IT STOP--_

As suddenly as the voice had come, it was cut off. The cup had fallen from Raven’s hand and shattered on the floor. The empath was too distracted to notice. The voice had been so close, so loud, that she could have been in the room with him. She doubled over with her unseen friend’s agony and terror. Whoever was hurting, she needed to find him. Fast.

The empath had been so distracted that she failed to notice the latest outburst had awakened her teammates. Robin was the first to reach the main room, with Starfire close behind him.

“What happened? Raven!” Robin rushed towards Raven, who suddenly looked up at him, startled. For a moment, Robin swore he saw a flash of bright green overtake her usually dark, violet eyes. Starfire reached for Raven cautiously.

“Friend Raven, are you alright? We heard a voice most disturbing just now, and--”

“I-I’m fine,” Raven interrupted, “But somebody else isn’t. We need to find him.”

“Find who?” Beast Boy asked, entering the room with Cyborg. “And what was all the screaming for?” The two looked unnerved. Cyborg was checking his sensors, and Beast Boy was trying not to think about the time Raven had nearly killed them after watching _Wicked Scary_ (though Robin said that they were never in any real danger, Beast Boy insisted he had almost been brutally murdered by the imaginary monsters).

“I don’t know,” Raven murmured, pulling her hood up to hide her face, “but he’s hurt and we have to help him. His voice was familiar somehow, not the sound of it so much as how it _felt_.”

“I am confused,” Starfire said, still with her hand gently settled on Raven’s arm. “How can a voice have a feeling?”

“My scanners haven’t picked up any intruders, Rae. Are you sure this isn’t like that time with the movie…” Cyborg was silenced by Raven’s glare.

Robin moved to the computers. “If it is real, and it is someone we know, we should check in with the Titans East and the Honorary Titans before we start telling ghost stories. Was this the only time any of us heard the voice?”

“No,” Raven replied, back to her usual deadpan. “It woke me up earlier, but it was softer then.” She turned away from them, shrugging off Star’s hand, staring out across the bay, feeling as though the boy was close enough to reach for, if only he could tell her who and where he was.

 

 

The Titans East were less than pleased to be called so early in the morning, even though Steel City was three hours ahead of Jump. Speedy’s hair was a mess and Más y Menos were leaning against each other, half asleep, but Bumblebee was all business.

“We’re all fine here, Robin, but we can help you and Sparky check up on some of the Honoraries if you want.” The four boys behind her stifled their groans.

“That would be great, thanks,” Robin said, half amused.

“I’m sending you the list now, Bee. Take the top part. We’ll cover the middle here, and Raven’s botherin’ the Herald for the last part of the list.” Cyborg hardly looked up from his typing. Starfire had wandered into the kitchen, and Beast Boy was yawning loudly.

_Can you hear me?_

The voice was faint, but it seemed to echo inside the four original Titans’ heads. They jumped, earning a concerned look from the Titans East.

“Did anyone else hear that?” Beast Boy was scratching his head, wide-eyed. Robin, Cyborg, and Starfire merely nodded, while Bumblebee and her team looked confused.

“Are you guys feeling okay?” Aqualad asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Or… heard one.”

“Just get on with that list, okay? Let us know who answers.” With that, the Boy Wonder motioned for Cyborg to cut the video.

_I’m so tired… I can’t… keep this up…_

Starfire shrieked and shook her head violently. “Oh, where are you, little friend!?”

_...Starfire?_

 

 

Despite the fact that the Titans were now actively calling out and asking the voice every question they could think of, they had gotten no response after Star’s name. They began contacting Honorary Titans, but they had only managed to get positive responses from a concerned Kole and Gnarrk, and an amused Kid Flash with a disgruntled Jinx before Raven and the Herald teleported into the room.

“It’s Jericho!” Herald said, in a panic. “I insisted we check on him first because I hadn’t heard from him in a while and I’d been too busy to check up on him and we got there but his place was a mess and I can’t find him anywhere and--”

“Herald, calm down!” Robin shouted, shaking the taller trumpet player. “Are you certain this is him?”

Raven nodded solemnly. Everyone was silent for a moment, remembering the green-eyed  mute who had helped them fight the Brotherhood of Evil with his power of possession. He appeared cheerful, but tense with all the strange people who were mostly rowdy and didn’t understand him. Jericho had stayed close to Herald, but he was friendly to everyone there. He formed a closer bond with Raven, Kole, and--surprisingly--Kid Flash. He had been as sad and reluctant to leave as everyone else had been to see him go, but the blonde musician needed to return to his mountain. Now, Robin was stuck trying to figure out who would want to hurt him.

“That would explain the green I saw in your eyes earlier, Raven, there must be a telepathic link with both of your powers… but this isn’t one of his powers that we know of…” Robin realized he had started to pace across the room and paused. “Cyborg, let the others know we know who’s in trouble. Raven, Herald, see if you can find some way to locate him. Star, Beast Boy, we’ll… patrol the city. But we stick together, and look for anything suspicious.”

 

 

Herald was alone in the medical bay, berating himself over and over again for not noticing his friend’s absence. 

_H-Herald… It’s not your fault…_

“Jericho?” Herald looked around frantically. “Jer, where are you?”

_I don’t know… it hurts so much… Raven can find me, but… hurry…_

“Jer, don’t go! We’ll find you!” Herald cried out as his friend’s voice grew softer and softer. Raven entered the room behind him, sensing his guilt and fear.

“He’s right, you know. You can’t blame yourself for this.” Herald spun around to face the gray half-demon.

“How is this not my fault? I should have checked on him, I should have known! Raven, you have to find him.”

“I know. I’ll try.”

 

 

In an abandoned bunker, hidden underneath the streets Robin, Starfire, and Beast Boy were searching, Jericho shifted in his cell. He curled up on himself, too weak to continue his attempts to contact his friends. Glowing shackles encircled the body-jumper’s fragile wrists, ankles, and throat, but the drugs he’d been given left him too weak to fight back, anyway, and his powers were being affected strangely. The mute’s skin had become pale and cold, he had a fever and shivers, and every inch of him ached.

He remembered being on his mountain, and then so many strangers swarmed his mountain from nowhere. He’d fought back as hard as he could, but they just kept coming. They had taken him to this oddly familiar lair, chained him down, and hurt him. The cruel and pointless tests and experiments were more than the gentle guitar player could handle. The fading boy no longer knew how long he had been here or what was happening to him. He just wanted to go home.

_I need to get out of here._

Dreading the return of the scientists holding him captive yet too exhausted to escape, Jericho huddled as far into the corner as he could before his fluttering lids slipped closed over his bright green eyes and he lost consciousness.

 


	2. Not So Alone

_ Five weeks earlier… _

Jericho knew it was a bad idea. A terrible, horrible, no-good, very-bad idea. He knew he should stay as far away from Jump City as possible, go back to his mountain, and hope his location had not been too irreparably compromised. He especially needed to avoid running into anyone connected to  _ him.  _ No matter what the rumors were, Jericho knew  _ he  _ couldn't truly have died, and the last thing he wanted was for his new friends to learn of Jericho's connection to  _ him.  _ But he also knew that the Titans would be suspicious if he refused to visit Titans Tower with the other Honoraries. Plus, the Herald was going. Herald was Jericho's way home. So Jericho accepted Beast Boy's invitation and resolved to stay as close to the Herald as possible. If any trouble arose, he could rely on his trumpet-wielding friend to teleport him away before he was recognized.

Though he was initially tense, Jericho gradually began to relax and even enjoy himself. Everything seemed so normal; well, as normal as a party full of super-powered teenagers celebrating their victory over the ominous Brotherhood of Evil could be. He just hoped he hadn't been seen when they had gone after Dr. Light earlier. He had attempted to obscure himself behind other superpowered teens and avoid all the action, and he doubted anyone would focus solely on him with all of the other heroes present. Still, he could never be certain…

His plan of sticking close to Herald went fairly well. Since Herald was one of the few people who could understand Jericho and the two were undeniably best friends, no one questioned it.

Nevertheless, he attempted to get to know as many of the other Titans as possible. The pink-haired crystal girl named Kole followed him around a lot. Even though Kole knew no sign language, she was nice, albeit not overly concerned with personal space. They wrote notes to each other in a notebook Raven had leant him until a massive, jealous caveman dragged Kole away.

To general astonishment, Jericho and Raven became fast friends. Raven used her powers to read Jericho's mind-with permission, of course-as well as project her thoughts into his, and the two were able to communicate effortlessly. Each could tell the other was hiding things, but neither pressed the other for information, which they equally found refreshing. When the celebration became too loud for them to handle, Raven took Jericho to the roof for a while and they had a pleasant little chat about poetry. Jericho even dared to make up a few jesting phrases about Dr. Light's reaction upon finding himself surrounded by superheroes, and Raven in particular.

Jericho wondered if anyone had ever bothered to tell Raven she had a nice smile. She certainly didn't show it often. Just as he was about to ask, Kid Flash had appeared next to them, accompanied by a gust of wind that made Raven pull her hood back over her head and hide her face. He threw an arm across Jericho's shoulders, which made the smaller boy flinch slightly.

"Hey, Blondie, they want you downstairs," he declared. "Something about storytime and a video game tournament."

"Beast Boy is going to die tonight," Raven muttered, disappearing into the shadows with a swish of her cloak. Jericho wasn't sure if he should huff out a silent giggle or be seriously concerned.

Kid Flash ruffled Jericho's already messy curls and super sped them back to the main room, where Beast Boy made Jericho uncomfortable by going on and on about how cool it was when little Jericho took control of the massive Cinderblock. Jericho was then forced into the video game tournament, while the Herald was engaged in a deep conversation about interdimensional physics with Raven. The blonde guitar player was about to sneak away again when Kid Flash insisted upon having Jericho on his team, even though it was clear Jericho hadn't handled technology in quite some time. However, Flash's speed more than made up for Jericho's unsteadiness, though the speedster would insist it was because Jinx was his good luck charm (or, rather, everyone else's  _ bad _ luck charm). Thanks to Cyborg having an unfortunate accident with a glass of fruit punch, Kid Flash and Jericho even managed to win the tournament, though Jericho appeared seriously affronted with the couple's methods, much to everyone's amusement. In the end, Jericho decided he liked Kid Flash. He reminded Jericho of how his older brother used to be, before he started bullying him.

It was nice, in Jericho's opinion, to finally just relax around a group of people his own age. People who accepted him, who had their own flaws and secrets, who were glad to have a place to belong.

 

 

Two days later, Jericho and Herald were among the last to leave. Although Jericho was relieved to be putting half a world between himself and Jump, he was sad to be leaving all his new friends. The hardest part was when Robin pulled him aside.

"The Titans and I talked about it, and we were wondering if you wanted to stay in Jump a while longer. Since you get along so well with everyone, I- _ we- _ wanted to try you out as a member of the team," Robin said.

"No pressure," the Boy Wonder added hurriedly. "We just think you could really do some good around here."

Raven could see the heartbreak in Jericho's eyes when he shakily signed that he would need time to consider the offer, but he really did have to get back to his mountain and see what could be salvaged. Perhaps, in time, if they still wanted him, he could return. For now, Jericho needed his mountain.

Herald dropped him off on the sunny mountain peak, promising to come back and visit as soon as things calmed down in his own dimension. Jericho pulled the taller boy into a hug.

**Be safe** , Jericho signed when they separated.

"Don't worry about me," Herald laughed. With a wave and a blast of his horn, Herald stepped through a portal.

Then, Jericho was all alone.

 

 

Almost one week had passed when it happened.

The day began like any other, with Jericho leaving his comfortably but simply decorated cave in the side of the mountain and climbing the summit to greet the rising sun. The previously trampled flowers were recovering well, and Jericho had already cleared the debris from his skirmish with Fang and Private H.I.V.E. Jericho then sat atop his favorite rock and experimented with a gentle melody on his guitar, his fingers gliding effortlessly along the strings.

It didn't take long for Jericho to sense that something was wrong. There was far less birdsong than usual, and there was a feeling in the air that instantly set the body-jumper on edge. Setting his guitar carefully against the rock, Jericho leapt off and landed in a battle stance a few meters away. He heard the snap of a twig and whipped his head in the direction of the sound.

Suddenly, five men appeared, rushing him from all directions. They were heavily armed, obviously well trained, and wore helmets with a specialized reflective material over the eyes. They knew of his powers, then, and-judging by the weapons-they knew he had been trained to fight.

Time seemed to slow as Jericho's heart hammered in his ears.

_ Don't panic,  _ he told himself.  _ You know what to do. Remember what they taught you. _

Leaping high into the air, Jericho grabbed onto two of the men's helmets and slammed them together as hard as he could, immediately followed by him pushing down on their heads and using their momentum to propel himself foot-first into another of these soldiers. One heel smashed through the reflective face-mask, followed by a kick to the chest that allowed him to spring over and tackle the fourth man. They toppled to the ground, with Jericho on top, and struggled for the man's gun until Jericho managed to hit the soldier in the face with the butt of it. He then took the weapon and spun around, firing at the fifth man who was now taking aim at the blonde. Jericho did not hesitate with his shots, hitting the man's firearms and rendering them useless.

_ "That won't do, Joey. These men won't hesitate to kill you, even if you don't want to kill them. Do it again, with feeling this time!" _

He then pointed the weapon at the man's chest, gesturing for him to raise his arms above his head.

There was no time for interrogation, however, as Jericho heard another wave of footsteps approaching from all directions once more. Landing a shot in the center of the fifth man's bulletproof vest, Jericho then dove to the ground as a hail of darts passed over his head.

Darts. So they weren't trying to kill him. They wanted him alive. But why? Who were these people, and how did they find him? The why must have had something to do with one of his parents, but which one? What did they want?

Jericho would have to save those questions for later. He knew the gun he currently held contained real bullets, which he was rather unwilling to use. However, there were now a dozen armored men coming over the ridge, and he'd have to cut the numbers down before taking them on physically if he wanted to last long enough to call for backup.

Ducking behind a boulder, Jericho avoided another wave of darts before peering around and firing at them, hitting the weaker places in their armor to cause maximum damage without risking actually killing them. He hated the feeling of the firearm going off in his hands. He hated having to fight. He hated being reminded so completely of the lessons  _ he _ gave.

_ "Never show you're surprised. You catch them off guard, never the other way around. And you  _ **_never, ever_ ** _ surrender. Understood?" _

The twelve men were followed by about twenty more, and Jericho knew it was useless. Still, he would not allow himself to surrender. He would not be weak. He would not be afraid this time. If he was to fall today, he would go down fighting.

Jericho pulled out his communicator. If he could just contact Herald, maybe he could get out of this and figure out who was after him and why. He pushed the emergency call button. Nothing happened. They must have been blocking the signal! They didn't want him calling for help. Were they after him because of his connection to the Titans, then, or were they telling him not to get the teen heroes involved? If they found the communicator, they would use it against him, regardless.

_ I can't be the reason everyone's in trouble again, not so soon after the Brotherhood… Not after they were so accepting, making me a part of something without even wondering if it could get them all killed… _ The memory of seeing his mother unconscious on the floor through a haze of smoke flashed through his mind. He clenched his hand around the communicator.

_ Not again… not for me… _

Knowing he had little time before the mercenaries would be upon him, Jericho hid his Titans communicator in a special cavity at the base of the boulder where it met the ground. Once he was satisfied the communicator would not be discovered, Jericho took a deep breath and leapt back over the rock. His sudden charge caught the men off guard. He managed to shoot down around another dozen of them before they reached him, and then it became a game of dodging, weaving, hitting them as hard as he could. He felt a sting in his arm as he failed to avoid one of the darts. It didn't put him under immediately (they must not have factored his mutant DNA into the dosage), but the dart still made him dizzy and nauseous. As he wrenched the dart from his arm, he felt a strong grip on his other bicep. Jericho thrust his head upward, catching the man hard under the chin, but another dart caught one of his legs and the butt of a gun caught his shoulder.

A silent cry escaped his lips as he spun, whipping the metal object in his hands like a club, sending another attacker flying. More soldiers continued to appear from all directions, no matter how many Jericho hit and took down. His continued resistance was met with more darts and harsh blows. He felt himself rapidly losing consciousness as pain and tranquilizers took over. The fight trailed across the mountain and down the side, where the trees gave Jericho a temporary respite before his attackers caught up with him. Unfortunately, he was too disoriented to last much longer.

He finally fell, gasping, to the ground, beaten and surrounded. A pair of steel-toed combat boots filled his vision, and his eyes trailed up to glare into the shielded eyes of their owner. He saw the mercenary raise the gun and aim the butt of it at his face before bringing it down.

Then, everything went black.

 


	3. Where Am I?

When Jericho regained consciousness, he felt himself floating. It was a strange sensation, breathing underwater, but he knew he couldn’t open his eyes yet. There was some sort of oxygen mask around his mouth, but nothing covered his eyes. He was still barely aware of his surroundings, and he needed to be prepared before he opened his eyes to discover what horrors the mercenaries had brought him to.

His body ached where they had beaten him, and he was still drowsy from the tranquilizers. He could feel that he still had his pants on, but his neck, chest, and feet felt bare. 

_ Good thing I hid the communicator,  _ Jericho thought.  _ They definitely would have taken it.  _

There were no restraints on his arms, but he could feel something wrapped around his ankles, probably preventing him from floating to the top of whatever he was trapped in.

Cautiously, Jericho cracked open one eye. Once he was certain that he was indeed floating in water that wasn’t harmful, he opened both eyes fully to take in his surroundings. From what Jericho could tell through the water and the glass, he was in some sort of laboratory filled with wires and monitors and men in white coats. There were other men in black--guards, hired guns-- at what Jericho presumed to be the room’s only exits. To make matters worse, every single one of them had covered their eyes with that strange reflective material. And Jericho couldn’t hear what they were saying and doing.

Trying not to panic, Jericho reached his hands out to feel the glass of his current prison. If they took him to ransom for information or money from his parents, why would they take his clothes and put him in some tube? What were all the scientists and machines for?

_ What do you want with me?  _ Terrible theories flashed through Jericho’s mind. He wrapped his arms around himself and curled up slightly, trying to stop the shaking.

_ This isn’t happening. This  _ can’t _ be happening. Please, tell me I’m wrong. Let this be some sick joke. _

To the mute’s horror, the scientists became more active. Apparently they noticed that he’d regained consciousness. Several of them approached the glass, surrounding him, taking notes and making comments in distorted, disinterested tones. A ring of lights flickered to life at the top and bottom of Jericho’s watery cage, as though the boy were some exotic animal on display.

_ A dark alley.  _

_ Men with guns, laughing as he cried, his breathing quick and shallow.  _

_ Familiar screams.  _

_ The cold steel of a knife against his throat. _

A hissing noise snapped the body-jumper out of his flashbacks. He wasn’t certain when he’d begun to hyperventilate, but he could feel that the air coming through his oxygen mask was changing. Jericho felt himself struggle to breathe and clawed frantically at the mask as his vision faded to black once more.

 

 

When Jericho regained consciousness, he was strapped to a table. Several wires and IVs connected to his pale, limp form, while various monitors beeped in the background. Whatever drugs they were forcing into him left him feeling... heavy. It was a struggle just to force his eyes open with every sluggish blink.

Fighting against the nausea, Jericho managed to make out the white-coated forms of the scientists and their reflective masks. They were discussing something… something important… All Jericho could decipher through the haze were a few words…

“...Odysseus…”

“...machine…”

“...transfer…”

 

 

The cell was cold. Cold and dark. Jericho had never felt so alone.

How long had he been here? Days? Weeks? They never kept him conscious long enough to find out. They  _ had _ done some sort of sick experiment the other (day?) that seemed to have no purpose other than to see how long the mute could stay awake, but they hadn’t been very conversational. The guards merely hit or shook him whenever Jericho started to succumb to exhaustion.

_ I hope they haven’t gone after anyone else _ , Jericho thought, curling up beneath his cell’s small, barred window and gazing out at the overcast sky.

 

 

The scientists always seemed to be striving towards a new level of torture for Jericho, but he found that nothing was worse than The Machine.

He’d awakened to find himself strapped into the horrible contraption, some sort of giant ball of metal that pressed and squeezed and pushed at his increasingly fragile form from all sides. He’d struggled at first, desperately pushing back and silently begging for the scientists to let him out.

Then they’d turned the monstrosity on.

It hurt. It burned. It blinded him with agony unlike anything he’d felt before. His mouth opened wide in a silent scream until dark nothingness blissfully returned.

 

 

Something shifted after Jericho’s captors began his sessions with The Machine. It felt as though a dam was threatening to break open inside of him, longing to let out a force greater than any he’d felt before. Something powerful and deadly. It frightened him almost as much as The Machine.

They kept the body-jumper drugged and shackled, glowing pieces of metal confining his wrists, ankles, and neck. The one around his throat was especially bothersome. He shuddered at the feeling of cold steel against his scars. 

Much to his dismay, he realized they were draining him. The cuffs would glow brighter the more awake he became. Whenever the guards came to retrieve him, they would increasingly draw his energy until he lost consciousness. The guards reveled in his helplessness, and Jericho hated every single one of them for it.

Dimly, Jericho realized that if he thought something particularly emphatically in his head, his captors would react to it. A jolt and a small struggle for control before they would carry on.

 

 

Jericho fought as hard as he could as the guards manhandled him into The Machine. His nausea was particularly overwhelming tonight, and his silent pleas were ignored as usual. He reached out as strongly as he could, searching for anyone who would listen.

**_Help… help me… please…_ **

One of the guards laughed. Jericho hung limply in the machine, quietly crying out what little fluids he’d been given while he waited for the pain. The Machine hummed to life.

**_Please… no more, I don’t like it…_ **

The torture began.

**_NO PLEASE DON’T SOMEBODY MAKE IT STOP--_ **

Jericho could feel his consciousness connecting, reaching for safety, familiar thoughts and intentions. He caught glimpses of a room, Titans Tower, Robin and Starfire’s concerned faces.

And then everything was gone.

 

 

As he regained consciousness- in his frigid cell once more- Jericho’s first thoughts were of that mental connection. Had he imagined it, or did the Titans truly hear him? He hadn’t wanted his new friends involved in this treacherous situation, but they were potentially his only hope of rescue. He didn’t want to die in here. Taking a deep breath, he closed his haunted green eyes and reached out into the night.

**_Can you hear me?_ **

Yes! He could see them! They were crowded around Cyborg and the computer systems. They appeared to hear him, but they didn’t acknowledge him. The mute slumped to the floor.

**_I’m so tired… I can’t… keep this up…_ **

He heard Starfire so clearly, she could have been standing outside his cell. 

“Oh, where are you, little friend!?”

He reached toward the window, a tiny spark of hope in his chest.

**_...Starfire?_ **

 

 

**_H-Herald… It’s not your fault…_ **

Jericho could sense Herald’s guilt. Telling his friend that he wasn’t to blame didn’t seem to help much, either. The only thing that would make Herald feel better was to have Jericho safe again. So the little body-jumper urged the Titans to find him. Fast.

“Jer, where are you?”

**_I don’t know… it hurts so much… Raven can find me, but… hurry…_ **

 

 

Jericho was asleep when the guards returned to drag him from his cell. Since the mute had been recharging rather than weakening when they retrieved him, he managed to regain consciousness en route to whatever hell they had planned for him this time.

They’d never allowed Jericho to be awake in the hallways before, so he took the opportunity to look for possible escape routes. He was passing a large, open chamber when he saw something that made everything so, so much worse.

Through a doorway into the grand room, he could see a large image painted on the wall. Orange and black with a gleaming, silver “S.”

Suddenly, Jericho knew  _ exactly  _ where he was.

 


	4. Officially Unretired

This was most definitely _not_ how Slade Wilson had planned to come out of retirement.

He had been biding his time since the incident with Trigon, keeping an eye on the Titans but not personally returning to Jump City and his criminal empire just yet. He also didn’t bother telling anyone that he was alive, aside from a select few on a need-to-know basis.

William Wintergreen was one of those few.

“Slade, I know you’re not one for a holiday, but this is ridiculous!” the older man huffed, leaning over Slade’s shoulder to glare at his friend’s computer screen. “You’re supposed to be laying low, not hacking into superhero databases.”

“William,” Slade gasped, pretending to be offended, “You can’t honestly expect me to sit back and become some lazy old geezer, do you? Shuffleboard and golf, I think I’d rather die…”

Wintergreen rolled his eyes. “Save your breath, Slade. You and I both know Rose is enough to turn your hair white, if Adeline and the army hadn’t beaten her to it.”

“Mmm, yes, I don’t think Lilian appreciates all of the martial arts I’ve been teaching her daughter.” Slade pensively adjusted a picture on his desk. It was fairly recent, a souvenir from some county fair. Slade, with his white hair, hard features, and eye patch, had an arm around the beautiful, dark-haired Lilian. The thirteen-year-old girl between them had her mother’s black, piercing eyes, Slade’s white hair, and a rebellious spirit that both of her parents had forgotten they’d given her. Slade had been staying with them since the Trigon incident. He’d called up Wintergreen shortly thereafter. Slade turned back to the files he was downloading, suddenly serious.

“The Titans have expanded their ranks, Wintergreen. This Brotherhood of Evil nonsense only served to bring the next generation of heroes closer together, from all over the world. There’s bound to be a few interesting ones to choose from.”

“Another new apprentice, Slade? You really do seem to fly through them. Sounds like the opposite of lying low, if you ask me.”

“All in good time, old friend. It doesn’t hurt to plan for--” Slade froze, fingers hovering over the keys, staring at one of the new profiles in the Titans’ system. “No…it can’t be… _Joseph?_ ”

“ _No,_ ” Wintergreen gasped, tilting the computer for a better look at the screen. 

The boy looked a bit older since they had last seen him, but his curly blond hair and bright green eyes were unmistakable. The scars on his neck were hidden by some white material (bandages or a white turtleneck, the image didn’t show enough to tell) and he seemed... happier than the two men could remember him being in a long, long time. After a while, Slade finally tore his gaze from the picture long enough to look at the words alongside it:

 

Name: Jericho

Alias(es): N/A

Location: Tibet

Abilities: Possession

Additional Info: Close friend of The Herald. Recruited in preparation for defense against the Brotherhood of Evil. Fought in the initial battle with the Brotherhood in Paris. Friendly. Able to get along well with everyone.

 

Slade found an additional note in Robin’s personal files, “Potential main team member.”

The arms of Slade’s desk chair splintered from the force with which he was gripping them. Rising, Slade flung the chair back and began to pace, his mind whirling.

“Slade,” Wintergreen began cautiously, setting the chair back on its legs. “It says ‘potential,’ all right, ‘potential.’ He hasn’t joined their team.”

“Not _yet_ ,” Slade spat, “But the Titans will ask him to join, and you know Joseph will feel obligated to go along with it.”

“I know, but-”

“He won’t be safe, Will! He’s in their database; who knows who could be after him already. I’m going to get him.” Slade reached for the phone on his desk, only to have Wintergreen place his hand over Slade’s.

“You cannot blow cover like this. If you show up now, you’ll just scare the boy. Give it some time and keep an eye on it, but I think he will be perfectly safe surrounded by heroes for the time being.”

Slade sighed and pulled his hand away, turning to stare at the image on the screen.

“I don’t want to see him hurt again, Will.”

 

 

Rose had to admit, she liked having her father around. 

He’d just shown up one day while she was at school. She wanted to be angry at him for not being around her entire life, but he was just as surprised at her existence as she was at his. He thought he was just visiting an old flame for a few weeks to recover from his latest “adventure.” Instead, he found a family.

Slade was _cool_ , too, with his eyepatch and scars and hair that was white, like hers. He taught her to fight and took her and her mother out to fairs, sporting events, the movies. He didn’t care that she was a girl.

Things got even better when Uncle Wintergreen showed up. He was a gruff old man who solved problems by sitting you down with a cup of tea and talking some sense into you. Apparently, Slade drove him crazy.

For Rose, it was as though she’d found a piece of herself that she’d always been missing. She should have known it was too good to last.

Mom had told her that Slade had secrets, things he could never tell them. Eavesdropping outside Slade’s office, Rose found out that her mom didn’t know the half of it. The Teen Titans of Jump City? Heroes and villains? Someone named Joseph? Slade was planning on leaving them.

_We’ll see about that._

 

 

A few weeks passed. Everyone acted normal, but there was a new tension there. Slade was restless, Wintergreen and Lily were worried, Rose was frustrated. The girl had been asking questions lately, prying at Slade’s life before he’d dropped himself at Lily’s doorstep.

They came home one night, bats and gloves over their shoulders, covered in dirt from helping Rose practice for baseball tryouts, to find Wintergreen waiting anxiously. He pulled Slade aside.

“We need to talk. Your office. Now.”

Slade turned to Rose, his expression serious. “Go clean up and help your mother with dinner.”

“But Dad--”

“ _Now_ ,” Slade said sharply, and turned to follow Wintergreen.

Slamming and locking the door behind him, Slade turned to the monitors on his desk. The Titan database was up on one of the screens, with an alert flashing. Joseph’s picture, with a message that he was missing, presumed kidnapped.

“Damn it!” Slade growled, banging a fist on the desk. He turned his glare to Wintergreen. “How long?”

“The alert went out this morning, ten o’clock our time.”

“That’s seven hours, Wintergreen, why am I only hearing about this now?”

“They rebooted their systems, looking for leaks, and they’re sending this alert across several hero databases. It took a while to work around. I only just got to this a bit over an hour ago. I was preoccupied before that working around _this_ ,” Wintergreen gestured to the other monitors, crowded with encryptions, security feeds, and a map of Jump City. 

“There’s been an increase in activity around your former hideouts for a while, and this particular one in Jump City has been live for over a month now. They tried to cover their tracks, but not well enough, evidently.”

Slade slumped into his chair as the programs finished regaining access while concealing their own presence. He knew this took time, but if Joseph was truly in danger…

“Has Searchers picked up on this?” Slade moved his fingers over the keys, adding his own codes to speed up the process.

“I doubt Addie knows what Joseph’s been up to, since you are the connection to the Titans and presumed dead. She’s never approached them before, and I doubt Joseph would have told them about her.”

Files began to open. Slade scattered them about the screen. There were files, copies of notes, videos. Slade opened the feed from live security cameras. In one of the frames, he caught a glimpse of curly blond hair. Zooming in on the footage, Slade noted that the boy was strapped to a table, surrounded by lab rats and hired guns. He was struggling weakly against the restraints while the scientists hooked him up to various monitors.

Slade’s stomach dropped. These people didn’t just kidnap Joseph.

They were experimenting on him.

Wintergreen was saying something that Slade couldn’t hear. He let his enhanced mind take off, cross referencing current mercenary positions with base schematics, factoring in changes the intruders had made. His hand was already reaching for the phone. This time, Wintergreen made no attempt to stop him.

Threat assessment made, helicopter commandeered, and wrath festering, Slade finally rose from his chair to find Wintergreen ready with his gear.

“Welcome back, sir,” the older man said gravely.

Slade gave a nod as he took the gear. “Watch over Lily and Rose for me.”

Wintergreen opened the door and stepped aside. Lilian and Rose were waiting for him. Lily seemed sad, but not surprised. He kissed Lily on the cheek and took a knee in front of Rose.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, “But Dad has to go to work now.”

Rose threw herself into his arms. “You can’t just leave! What are you doing? When will you be back? Who’s Joseph?”

Slade sighed, “It’s better you don’t know.” He held her out at arm’s length. “Stay out of trouble, listen to your mom, and keep up with your training.”

They could hear the helicopter hovering above the house. Slade picked up his bag and turned his back on them. His posture shifted in a way Rose had never seen before; she had never seen someone look so completely… _dangerous_.

“Looks like Deathstroke is officially out of retirement.” Slade muttered to himself, stepping out to meet the helicopter.

_They just had to make it personal._

 


End file.
